


In Memoriam

by Alala



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Is a Good Bro, But yeah probably a bit rough around the edges, Gen, My First Fanfic, Non-Canonical Character Death, Non-Chronological, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, how exciting!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4196265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alala/pseuds/Alala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an Avenger passes on, the shockwaves are felt around the world. But just how will Dr. Bruce Banner, Hulk, long-time fugitive and scientist extraordinaire be remembered?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Memoriam

**Author's Note:**

> I'VE FINALLY WRITTEN A FANFICTION! This is the first piece of fictional writing I've produced in years, so any comments are worth their weight in gold. I don't have a solid plan for this yet, so if you have any ideas you'd like to see in the work leave them in the comments and I might include them.

> _Are God and Nature then at strife,  
>  That Nature lends such evil dreams?_  
>  In Memoriam A.H.H., Alfred, Lord Tennyson

It was mid-morning in Shahdara, and the narrow streets were buzzing. Women were on their way to the market, street vendors were showing off their wares, and a group of westerners in suits were being led by some enthusiastic women in crisp polo shirts, gazing wide-eyed at their surroundings and occasionally taking photographs. Just as the last of them rounded a corner, a lone man leaned carefully out from behind a stall, and after a second continued on his way. “Out of my way, leper!” the boy started and jumped aside to avoid being run over by a grumpy old man on a bicycle. When he looked back the stranger had gone.

It was a few days before the boy saw the strange man again. By that time he had already heard about the quiet American who healed the sick for only a meal or a packet of chlorine tablets and spoke near-perfect Urdu. No-one spoke to the boy, of course, but what he overheard made him eager to meet the man. He longed to know what brought a western man, a doctor even, to a grimy corner of Delhi, how he had come to speak Urdu, and whether….but no. A broken bone or a chest infection was one thing, but the boy had a chronic disease, one which would take months or years to heal even with expensive medication. It was not going to happen. He forgot all that, though, when the doctor emerged from the bakery next to his begging spot, looking haggard and rubbing his eyes. He didn’t even ask the man his name. He just stared. The man saw him. The boy flinched slightly but couldn’t tear his gaze away. He loved new things, new people, new places, and he so rarely got to see them, but he couldn’t say a word. The man stared back. “You’re the leper” he nodded. _Oh God, I disgust him. My first opportunity to learn something about the world and he’s disgusted-_ “Come with me”. “Huh?” Eloquence had never been the boy’s strong point. “Come with me. Or if you need the money I’ll let you work and come back when you’re done for the day. Sound good?” the boy nodded. “Good."

The sun was low in the sky when the man returned. He was silent as the boy emptied his begging bowl and folded up his mat, and slipped quickly down alleys and backstreets so that the boy, accustomed as he was to the streets, had to hurry to keep up. Finally he stopped outside a rundown house and ducked through the doorway. An older woman turned as he entered and smiled, but that smile disappeared as she saw the leper. “Why is he here?” she demanded. “Why have you brought him into my home?” The man raised a hand slightly, somehow both placating and authoritative. “He is no danger to you. I’ve brought him to sleep in my room.” The boy stared at him incredulously. So did the woman. “Are you mad?” The man chuckled darkly, but merely said “His disease is only contagious to those who live within close proximity to him, and I am immune-“ “Immune?” “It means he can’t catch the disease” the boy supplied. The woman glared at him, and the man looked askance at him, but carried on. “I am immune, so no-one’s in danger, and it keeps him off the street at night.” The woman continued to glare at the boy. “Mrs Bukhari, I would never ask this of you if there were even a remote possibility of you or any of your family being harmed, and you did give me freedom to use my room as I pleased” Mrs Bukhari grouched and muttered, but in the end she waved her hand and turned away. “On your own head be it, Dr. Boveri” the boy grinned and followed the doctor into a side room. Dr. Boveri turned and smiled. “So, what’s your name?” “Farah” The man nodded. “Nice to meet you Farah. Now, let’s see if we can’t get rid of that leprosy, shall we?”


End file.
